Paris, November 2, 1861.
My eyes are so bad that I did not recognise you at once the other day. Why do you come into my quarters without forewarning me? The person who was with me asked who the lady was with such beautiful eyes.
I spend all my time working like a negro slave for my master, whom I shall go to see in a week. The prospect of eight days in knee-breeches is somewhat terrifying. I should prefer to spend them out in the sunshine, and I begin to long for that time. On the other hand, the session with which we are threatened is maddening to me. I can not understand why Government business is not transacted in summer....
I have for you a book which is not altogether stupid. My memory is failing, and I have had a volume bound, when I already had a copy. You see what you will gain by it.
I have recovered almost entirely from my stiff neck, but for several nights I have been up so late that I am extremely nervous and exhausted. When we meet we will converse on metaphysics. ‘Tis a subject for which I cherish a great fondness because it is inexhaustible. Good-bye, dear friend.
CCXLVII
Compiégne, November 17, 1861.
Dear Friend: We are to remain here until the 24th. It is the fault of his Majesty, the king of Portugal, that the fêtes, for which we have been making ready, were not given. They were postponed, and we have been kept here in consequence. We are comfortable enough, inasmuch as we are all well acquainted, and as independent of one another as it is possible to be in such a place.
For lions we have four Highlanders in kilts, the duke of Athol, lord James Murray, and the son and nephew of the duke. It is most amusing to see these eight bare-knees in a salon where all the rest of the men are in knee-breeches or tight trousers. Yesterday, his grace’s piper was brought in, and all four danced in such a way as to cause general alarm when they turned around. But there are ladies whose crinoline is still more alarming when they enter a carriage. As ladies invited as guests are not permitted to wear mourning, one sees legs of all colours. Red stockings I think very stylish.
Notwithstanding walks in damp, icy woods, and drawing-rooms heated red-hot, to the present time I have not caught cold; but I suffer from suffocation, and do not sleep. I was present at the great ministerial comedy, where one or two victims more were expected. The faces were interesting to observe, the addresses still more so; so that M. Walewski, the Excellency on trial, directed his grievances without any discrimination against friends and foes alike. There is nothing like an intense preoccupation to make people say stupid things, especially when they are accustomed to saying them. Oh, the dulness of mankind!